It did not once occur to my friend, that it would be wisest to
lessen the number of articles, and get the remainder of the first
quality. No; her heart covered the whole inventory at first made
out, and nothing less would answer. So she went to an auction store,
and bought inferior articles at lower prices. I visited her soon
after. She showed me her bargains, and, with an air of exultation,
spoke of the cost.
“What do you think I paid for this?” said she, referring to a showy
dressing-bureau; and, as she spoke, she took hold of the suspended
looking-glass, and moved the upper portion of it forward. “Only
seventeen dollars!”
The words had scarcely passed her lips, ere the looking-glass broke
away from one of the screws that held it in the standards, and fell,
crashing, at our feet!
It cost just seven dollars to replace the glass. But, that was not
all—over thirty dollars were paid during the first year for
repairs. And this is only the beginning of troubles.
Cheap furniture is, in most cases, the dearest that housekeepers can
buy. It is always breaking, and usually costs more, in a year or
two, than the difference between its price and that of first-rate
articles; to say nothing of the vexation and want of satisfaction
that always attends its possession. Better be content with fewer
articles, if the purse be low, and have them good.
While on this subject, I will incorporate in these “Confessions” an
“Experience” of my sister and her husband, Mr. and Mrs. John Jones.
Mr. Jones is, in some respects, very much like Mr. Smith, and, as
will be seen in the story about to be given, my sister’s ideas of
things and my own, run quite parallel to each other. The story has
found its way, elsewhere, into print, for Mr. Jones, like myself,
has a natural fondness for types. But its repetition here will do no
harm, and bring it before many who would not otherwise see it.
CHAPTER V.
IS IT ECONOMY?
THE “Experience” of my relative, Mr. John Jones, referred to in the
preceding chapter, is given in what follows. After reading it, we
think that few young housekeepers will commit the folly of indulging
to any very great extent in cheap furniture.
We had been married five years, and during the time had boarded for
economy’s sake. But the addition of one after another to our family,
admonished us that it was getting time to enlarge our borders; and
so we were determined to go to housekeeping. In matters of domestic
economy both my wife and myself were a little “green,” but I think
that I was the greenest of the two.
To get a house was our first concern, and to select furniture was
our next. The house was found after two months’ diligent search, and
at the expense of a good deal of precious shoe leather. Save me from
another siege at house-hunting! I would about as soon undertake to
build a suitable dwelling with my own hands, as to find one “exactly
the thing” already up, and waiting with open doors for a tenant. All
the really desirable houses that we found ticketed “to let,” were at
least two prices above our limit, and most of those within our means
we would hardly have lived in rent free.
At last, however, we found a cosey little nest of a house, just
built, and clean and neat as a new pin, from top to bottom. It
suited us to a T. And now came the next most important
business—selecting furniture. My wife’s ideas had always been a
little in advance of mine. That is, she liked to have every thing of
the best quality; and had the weakness, so to speak, of desiring to
make an appearance. As my income, at the time, was but moderate, and
the prospect of an increase thereof not very flattering, I felt like
being exceedingly prudent in all outlays for furniture.
“We must be content with things few and plain,” said I, as we sat
down one morning to figure up what we must get.
“But let them be good,” said my wife.
“Strong and substantial,” was my reply. “But we can’t afford to pay
for much extra polish and filigree work.”
“I don’t want any thing very extra, Mr. Jones,” returned my wife, a
little uneasily. “Though what I do have, I would like good. It’s no
economy, in the end, to buy cheap things.”
The emphasis on the word cheap, rather grated on my ear; for I was
in favor of getting every thing as cheap as possible.
“What kind of chairs did you think of getting?” asked Mrs. Jones.
“A handsome set of cane-seat,” I replied, thinking that in this, at
least, I would be even with her ideas on the subject of parlor
chairs. But her face did not brighten.
“What would you like?” said I.
“I believe it would be more economical in the end to get good
stuffed seat, mahogany chairs,” replied Mrs. Jones.
“At five dollars a-piece, Ellen?”
“Yes. Even at five dollars a-piece. They would last us our
life-time; while cane-seat chairs, if we get them, will have to be
renewed two or three times, and cost a great deal more in the end,
without being half so comfortable, or looking half-so well.”
“Sixty dollars for a dozen chairs, when very good ones can be had
for twenty-four dollars! Indeed, Ellen, we mustn’t think of such a
thing. We can’t afford it. Remember, there are a great many other
things to buy.”
“I know, dear; but I am sure it will be much more economical in the
end for us to diminish the number of articles, and add to the
quality of what we do have. I am very much like the poor woman who
preferred a cup of clear, strong, fragrant coffee, three times a
week, to a decoction of burnt rye every day. What I have, I do like
good.”
“And so do I, Ellen. But, as I said before, there will be, diminish
as we may, a great many things to buy, and we must make the cost of
each as small as possible. We must not think of such extravagance as
mahogany chairs now. At some other time we may get them.”
My wife here gave up the point, and, what I thought a little
remarkable, made no more points on the subject of furniture. I had
every thing my own way; I bought cheap to my heart’s content. It was
only necessary for me to express my approval of an article, for her
to assent to its purchase.
As to patronizing your fashionable cabinet makers and high-priced
upholsterers, we were not guilty of the folly, but bought at
reasonable rates from auction stores and at public sales. Our parlor
carpets cost but ninety cents a yard, and were handsomer than those
for which a lady of our acquaintance paid a dollar and
thirty-eight. Our chairs were of a neat, fancy pattern, and had cost
thirty dollars a dozen. We had hesitated for some time between a set
at twenty-four dollars a dozen and these; but the style being so
much more attractive, we let our taste govern in the selection. The
price of our sofa was eighteen dollars, and I thought it a really
genteel affair, though my wife was not in raptures about it. A pair
of card tables for fifteen dollars, and a marble-top centre table
for fourteen, gave our parlors quite a handsome appearance.
“I wouldn’t ask any thing more comfortable or genteel than this,”
said, I, when the parlors were all “fixed” right.
Mrs. Jones looked pleased with the appearance of things, but did not
express herself extravagantly.
In selecting our chamber furniture, a handsome dressing-bureau and
French bedstead that my wife went to look at in the ware-room of a
high-priced cabinet maker, tempted her strongly, and it was with